


Keep These Bones Warm (I Want You To)

by dearqueer (plushrump)



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Cock Piercing, Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, please god forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5914636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plushrump/pseuds/dearqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke Skywalker figures his ‘liberation’ begins not with puberty, but in a seedy dive where he meets six feet of broad-chested, cocky sexual awakening. <br/>(aka an excuse to write han solo w a jacobs ladder)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep These Bones Warm (I Want You To)

**Author's Note:**

> i can see the sin on my hands. how many times will these hands sin. out damned spot out.   
> me and celestialpup on tumblr were talking about han solo with jacobs ladder piercing and let me tell you she is a bad influence on me so here it is  
> this is solidly unbeta'd

Tatooine was not, as planets usually go, very well known for its ‘sexual liberation’.

Luke thinks it’s because of the heat. What his home planet lacks in loose morals, it makes up tenfold in stale, dry, desert heat. The kind of heat that sits in the bottom of your lungs and collects sand until you feel like you can’t breathe.

Passing out of heat-stroke mid coitus was practically a farm tale turned urban legend around locals, probably due to actual anxiety about it really happening. Tatooine could reach hundred-twenty before noon on a good day, and Luke has seen little black dots dance at the edge of his vision under less exertion.

Luke had tried a few tentative times slipping his hand below the waistband of temperature-regulated uniform pants, thinking of holovid videos his friends had sent to him of soft, sweat-sheened girls. But every time left him half-hard and overheated, clothes stuck wetly to his warm flesh despite his inability to even get himself started.

So, in that way, Luke Skywalker figures his ‘liberation’ begins not with puberty, but in an air-conditioned, seedy dive where he meets six feet of broad-chested, cocky sexual awakening.

It’s that first night on the Falcon, with the artificially cool air brushing fevered skin that Luke is able to reach down between his thighs and come to the thought of Han Solo, real and cool and nothing like the holovids that seemed to shimmer in the air of his home planet like a mirage.

It’s also on the Falcon that Luke learns that Corellia _was_ , as planets usually go, very well known for its ‘sexual liberation’.

Easy sensuality seems to pour off Han in waves and wash over Luke like chilly fingertips trailing up his spine. Where Luke feels awkward and uncomfortable, Han oozes sexual confidence with a soothing lopsided grin and mischievous eyes that sometimes flick over Luke’s frame with an appreciative glance. Being around Han Solo feels to him like he was on Tatooine all over again, frustrated and damp and sticky.

But then things get harried and Luke’s second puberty gets put on the back burner in favor of more important things like saving the galaxy, and it’s not until they’re on Hoth (bitterly freezing Hoth where the wet cold of the snow seems to seep right into the marrow of his bones and he somehow feels he’s never going to be warm again) that he gets a chance to deal with the niggling little flame that is his budding sexuality. Han holds up two fingers and tells him that’s “two you owe me, junior” with a smile that promises something more and Luke knows for a fact that he’s going to make up all two and a little over that.

He corners Han just hours afterwards on the way back to their bunks, and tells him exactly how he’s planning on paying off his debts. Han voices his concerns (“Kid, I wasn’t trying to get sexual favors out of you”), but Luke reassures him that on his knees is without a doubt where he’d like to pay him back. Han seems caught off-guard by Luke’s bold proposition, until he laughs and asks “Where’d my innocent farm boy go?” and then kisses the offended pout off Luke’s lips.

The kiss is simple and chaste. Its soft and its gentle and its more of a peck, but it blows Luke’s _universe_ apart. He feels excitement and anticipation rocket up his spine like a live wire all the way to his fingertips.  It makes his palms tingle with the need to touch anywhere, everywhere. They break apart just long enough for Luke to feel a puff of a warm breath tickle the bridge of his nose, and then Han is winding an arm around his back and pulling him close. Luke can feel the hard planes of Han’s chest burning against him and when he shivers he learns that sometimes heat can give him chills all over. Hands itching to touch something, Luke reaches up and winds his fingers through Han’s hair, tugging him closer and pulling on his scalp.

What Luke lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. He moans appreciatively when Han nips at his top lip and worries the flesh there with his teeth. Han’s hands float down the small of Luke’s back, and rests over the swell of his ass, giving the flesh there a cheeky little squeeze.

A sound echoes down the hallway: the closing of a door. Han backs up immediately and Luke can feel the foot of distance between them like miles of barren desert sand. A tentative beat, and then he grabs Luke around the waist again and they’re kissing and walking _-somehow_ \- towards a destination that he assumes (hopes) to be Han’s room when the door slides open. They tumble through the threshold, and the soft click of the door shutting behind them gives Luke an idea and a reminder.

Let no one say that Luke Skywalker doesn’t keep his promises.

He turns Han around and pins him to the door. Giving a parting kiss to the little bump of a scar on his chin, Luke leaves a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses down Han’s neck to the little hollow at the base of his clavicle. Luke runs his hands along Han’s chest, and lets them ruck up his shirt, fluttering his fingers along the feeling of muscles clenching underneath skin.

He sinks to his knees, leaving a line of kisses in his wake, down Han’s chest which is dusted with a dark covering of coarse hair and down until he’s looking up at Han’s flushed face through his eyelashes.

Luke, now at eye-level with what he’s about to attempt to shove down his throat, becomes suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, a nervous habit. He hears Han whisper a quiet _“fuck”_ before weaving his fingers into Luke’s sandy blonde hair and nudging his face forward very lightly. With shaky hands, Luke hooks his fingers into the waistband of Han’s pants and in one swift motion yanks them down around his knees.

Luke had never seen another man’s cock before, but he could see the fine outline of Han Solo’s leaving a wet stain on the front of his boxers and Luke’s mouth waters. Curiously, he traces a knuckle along the damp fabric, and is rewarded when Han hisses as his cock twitches.

Han chooses this moment to speak up: “ _Please,_ Luke, you’re killing me.”

Nerves alight, Luke runs his tongue over his abused bottom lip, and pulls Han’s boxers down inch by tantalizingly slow inch, until Han’s cock is freed and slaps wetly against his stomach. What Luke sees, he almost thinks is a trick of the light at first. Unable to help himself, Luke traces the pad of his thumb over one little silver ball.

“What are these?” Luke asks, breathless.

Along the underneath of Han’s cock, running in a straight line, were five rows of shiny little bars pierced into the skin. At either end of each bar rests a round metal head to keep the piercing in place. He could see the outline of the bar underneath the skin, and when he brushed against it, Han’s cock gave an interested twitch.

“It’s called a ‘Jacob’s Ladder’” Han says, and runs a hand through his hair. “They don’t have piercings on your backwater planet?”

Luke shakes his head to the negative, and runs his pointer finger down his entire length, connecting all the bars together with an invisible line.

“Does it hurt?” Luke asks.

Han’s hand leaves tugging at his own hair to rest in Luke’s again. Very not subtly, he inches Luke closer to himself.

“Not when you’re doing that.” Han voice sounds rough and slow. It goes straight to Luke’s cock.

Taking the hint, Luke leans forward and delivers an experimental lick to the divot at the head of Han’s cock. It tastes-how Luke would imagine cock to taste. Salty, like skin, but with a hint of something so completely Han that it stirs something in his lower belly.

He grasps the base of it, and envelops just the tip into his mouth. The flushed flesh feels almost silky on his tongue, and he rests back a little to tongue at the frenulum just under the hood. He hears Han’s head hit the back of the door with a solid thud and, feeling smug, Luke takes another inch into his mouth.

The piercing rests on the edge of Luke’s tongue, and the coppery taste of it is a welcome break to the foreign, heady scent of _sex._ He tries running the very tip of his tongue over the ball and he feels the bar twisting under the skin. It feels like such a strange sensation against his mouth but Han’s fingers tighten hard in his hair, and the praise brings a shock of pleasure to the base of Luke’s spine. Trying to remember what he saw the girls do in those holovids he used to watch, he hollows his cheeks out and sucks, swirling saliva wetly along the hardened flesh.

“Stars, _yeah_ , kid, _just_ like that.” Han says, and his voice cracks in more than one place. Luke feels both absurdly proud and turned on.

Luke allows Han’s cock to slip out of his mouth and Han hisses in protest but then Luke licks a thick, wet stripe along the underside. He tastes the alkaline of every metal bar on his tongue, and the sound Han makes sounds ripped from his fucking throat. He pulls at Luke’s hair hard and Luke feels lazy coils of pleasure shoot up his spine at the rough treatment.

Luke was discovering all sorts of new things about himself today.

He goes back to lavishing the head of Han’s cock with little licks and sucks, and Han cants his hips forward, just a little, and Luke moans around his cock. Han pauses for a long second, and then seems to come to a decision as his fingers steady themselves in Luke’s hair. Holding Luke’s head in place, very gently, Han thrusts his hips so that the head just barely slips into Luke’s lips.  The idea is so hot that Luke reaches down to palm at himself through his pants, and he’s starting to wonder if he’s going to come before Han just by Han _face-fucking him._

Luckily for Luke, Han seems to be losing his cool rather rapidly too, and starts up a really shallow rhythm. He thrusts just far enough to sink a couple inches into the slick heat of Luke’s mouth. The piercings roll against Luke’s tongue and Han’s hips start to stutter. He pulls back, says : “Luke, _babe_ , stars-“ and he’s coming across Luke’s face in ribbons, and Luke almost bites through his lip and comes so hard he sees _galaxies._

Afterwards, when they lay on Han’s too-small cot wrapped up in one another’s warmth, Luke decides that the heat isn’t so bad if you’ve got the right person to warm you up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come c me at tumblr im falloutboyisoverrated


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